


Asphyxiation

by spectrekinq



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Choking, Drunk Sex, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-12
Updated: 2018-08-12
Packaged: 2019-06-26 11:13:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15662094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectrekinq/pseuds/spectrekinq





	Asphyxiation

His teeth nips at bare flesh, hands roaming over the trembling body. Every strangled moan he pulls from Connor's throat is music to his ears, sturdy fingers at work as he strips down pieces of clothing from each individual body.

He can hear his mewls for more, and he begins to plant kisses on the inner thighs of the android. A single digit twirls around the self-lubricating entrance before it slides itself inside, a needy breath being sucked in.

The second one plunges in, both fingers forcing harsh thrusts against Connor's prostrate. Hank continues to attack his neck, lips sucking on flesh, feeling his partner's head tuck itself against the crook of his neck.

Digits explore the heat, with enough experience to know what drives him crazy. He pulls them out with lubricant sticking to his finger tips, Hank's hand grasping onto Connor's left hip. With a single grunt, he pushes inside of the tight space, his brows furrowing from pleasure.

He hovers over Connor's body, capturing his essence with a kiss. His moves are slow, but he knows what he enjoys, thumbs leaving bruises behind on the blank canvas. His bed creaks underneath them, and he feels the android's hot breath against his own neck, his fingers leaving trails up to Connor's throat.

They wrap around around the trachea, and as they begin to squeeze slowly, the blue rushes to Connor's cheeks. He squirms from the hand applying pressure to his windpipe, breaths being torn away from him.

The Lieutenant's digits curl around the android's shaft, Connor tasting the alcoholic substance on Hank's lips. It's a whiskey brand in particular, around two bottles in Anderson's system. He's aware he's drunk, finger tips raking down the elder's back. The movements are harsher, enough to draw whines and whimpers from Connor.

His brain thinks he is dying, fingers keeping their firmer hold on his neck as Hank's body pushes itself into orgasm. It feels like electric for both of them, toes curling and bodies shaking, pleasure eventually finishing its course.

Hank's arms place themselves around Connor's much more delicate form, pressing against the android's back. The breathing becomes more quieter until nothing is stirring inside the bedroom, both bodies passed out in a warm, protective embrace.


End file.
